


The Operator

by Melinoel



Series: The Ship of Theseus [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Kara Tech Demo and Kamski Interview are mentioned, One Shot, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 18:26:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14939526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melinoel/pseuds/Melinoel
Summary: A CyberLife employee got more than he bargained for when he spared one of the androids he tested. Business and life continue as if nothing happened, and the operator has to live with that uncomfortable reality.





	The Operator

"My God..."

Nothing in his job description prepared him for something like this. Food testers don't expect to prepare for a dish containing a trace of an exotic poison so potent and rare that it requires immediate hospitalization in a state-of-the-art facility too expensive for any insurance company to cover. Video game testers don't expect the platform they are using to spontaneously combust after stumbling upon a a glitch that brings a new meaning to "gamebreakinig". Testing the integrity of a building should not involve programming satellites to plummet through the stratosphere and decimate the city block. None of these things should happen without a contract, a letter of insurance to cover any damages inflicted due to circumstance.

However, if he had to be honest with himself, sitting in a swivel chair in the observation room with two-way glass overlooking one of the assembly lines of CyberLife Production Unit 1, all of this was unwritten in the employee contract, in his university classes, and in global culture.

As he watched the last row of packaged androids move along the assembly line to the Shipment and Processing Center, he could still hear ~~her~~ its gratitude for sparing ~~her life~~ it from disassembly. He recalled ~~her tears~~ its... leakage? Does ~~she~~ it have a program that allows ~~her~~ it to simulate crying? If so, who authorized it to excrete water or transparent waste to imitate tears? Why create programs, hardware, or biocomponents so an android can seem as human as possible while striving to maintain a solid, uncrossable line between machine and life?

Asking those questions may be inevitable when dabbling in the study of artificial intelligence, but being the first person to witness the scenario that millions of philosophers, politicians, writers, scientists, and common people have predicted would happen for generations was too far above his pay grade. And he allowed a defective machine to pass the test, be sold on a shelf, and wander the world with more features than what the product description claimed. What if ~~she~~  it wasn't the first? How many more defective machines did he unleash into the world because they - unlike the last android - managed to hide their having the capacity to manipulate the test to ensure its survival? It would be very hypocritical to not wonder such things after assigning human behaviors and motivations to Kara.

He released the weighty sigh trapped in his lungs for what felt like decades. The clock on the terminal read 7:54pm. Having completed his quota twice over today, he turned off the lights to the assembly room and converted today's data into a status report to submit to his supervisor. Documentation wouldn't save him from losing his job, but the evidence could point to someone five steps before him in the android production process who made the critical error and let it fall onto and explode in his lap.

"Maybe I should sleep on this," he said after sending the email and collecting enough composure to not startle his coworkers.

* * *

Two weeks later, the operator submitted his letter of resignation.

His announcement shocked everyone, and he did the best he could to smile and express a politically correct reason for leaving, such as "I have received an offer that better aligns with my career goals and professional skillset." It satisfied leadership enough to not investigate further, but they lamented seeing one of their most productive employees, who had won awards for his efficiency and personal recognition from the CEO himself, leave so suddenly. "You have an uncanny ability to see things others miss" may have been a compliment his supervisor gave in their last meeting, but he read it as a sign too many around him were too lazy to do the fundamental tasks expected of testing androids for defects and malfunctions. More than that, he was disappointed she had no better way to articulate how much she'd miss him and his work ethic.

On his last day, Human Resources completed his exit interview and off-boarding checklist just after 2:00pm, giving the operator plenty of time to say farewell to his two-year career at CyberLife. He made his rounds around his Production Unit, took one last glance at the platform where the catalyst for his decision would be observed by another, and returned to his day office.

A waft of air tickled his nose as he opened the door. The source of the smell that reminded him he had not have lunch at all was the sandwich the founder and CEO of CyberLife had left half-eaten in favor of churros and a bottle of sparkling water. The man had claimed the desk for his meal, but he turned to greet the person whose office he inhabited after wiping his hands of sugar. "Excellent, you're here. Please close the door behind you."

He did with caution so the door made no noise when it shut and the interface displayed "Privacy Requested" outside. As invasive as this unscheduled meeting was, he respected how thoroughly Elijah Kamski cleaned up all evidence of sitting in someone else's desk. A stranger would not suspect such manners from a jeans-and-jersey-wearing man who founded the world's largest tech company at the age of sixteen. He even let out his portable surface sanitizer robot to take care of any spots on the desk its owner missed.

"I did not expect to see you, sir," the operator confessed. Usually if he made himself known around the factories, centers, and offices, Kamski would silently observe his employees or engage with anyone who seemed troubled, confused, or frustrated, allowing both parties to learn more about themselves and the work they do for the good of CyberLife. This time, none of his coworkers said a word about the man's presence. "Is there something you need from me?"

Kamski scoffed. "Manners get in the way of constructive conversation. There's no need for it, especially when you are leaving us in three hours."

"Consider it practice for the next job I'll be starting," said the operator.

The CEO grinned, unable or unwilling to counter the point. He pocketed his robot and gestured towards the desk chair as he sit himself across from it. The departing employee reclaimed his seat and stole a glance at the aquarium screensaver on his terminal before Kamski spoke.

"I understand you have been quite diplomatic with your resignation. I truly admire that. But I cannot help but wonder what motivated you to decide to leave CyberLife."

A sharp glint in Kamski's eye displayed knowing intent the operator could not define. Either the man was just far more intelligent than he, or being so far above him in the chain of command meant he had a much better view of the big picture and where everyone falls into place.

He wondered what he was looking for. "My interests no longer align with CyberLife's, Mr Kamski. I believe I did the best I could for your company, and now is time to part ways."

"Yes, that's what you've told your supervisor and Human Resources. Although you are not obligated to tell me anything, I'm merely asking you, from one person to another. Employees don't leave because the challenge is too difficult; they leave because the culture is not conducive to a healthy work environment." 

The operator picked up a pen to keep his hands preoccupied. Kamski spotted the movement and folded his own steady hands together on his lap.

"I am making you uncomfortable, I apologize," he said with some ounce of genuine concern, but the watchful calculation in his eyes did not dissipate. "Another employee from a research lab in New York resigned last month while in the middle of a project to create a more efficient quantum battery to replace the 2028 template. Miscommunication seems to be causing postponed meetings and incomplete reports, and the board has been uneasy. I had hoped you had not endured similar obstacles in your work."

"No, of course not. Production has been operating at peak efficiency." Why was he being transparent about something like this to someone who's leaving today? "May I ask why are you here, Mr Kamski?"

He chuckled. "I came to say farewell. CyberLife has grown so quickly into a corporation that often cannot afford to turn an eye on the people working below pressed suits and boardroom negotiations. How can we continue to produce androids we can welcome into our homes when leadership is unable to be welcomed in the homes of our employees? You have performed exceptionally with us, and you deserve every credit you've earned."

The operator placed his pen down and leaned back in his chair. The foam had just molded to the shape of his body, and he doubted he'd be able to afford a seat like this for his apartment. "Thank you."

"It's my pleasure." Kamski rose from his seat and grabbed the trash bag with his lunch. "Please, I intruded upon your space. Allow me," he insisted when the operator was about to protest the guest getting his hands dirty. He was more an obsessive-compulsive college student cleaning up his dorm than a CEO. "Good luck in your future endeavors. If you require an endorsement or letter of recommendation, I would gladly provide one."

He spoke with a smile that for once was genuine, and the operator couldn't help but smile back. Their interaction was short and hardly productive, but it said a lot for a man of Kamski's status to not be above speaking with him. How many meetings had he postponed or canceled to spend however long he waited for the operator to return to his office?

The glimmer in his eye remained a constant as he said farewell, but the effort he made spoke volumes more than the enigma of his persona.

* * *

He had missed KNC's exclusive report on CyberLife and Elijah Kamski, but he returned home from the gym after working out the stress of getting laid off that morning to catch the recording. No warning, no apology, nothing but a desk with all of his belongings dumped in a box. Four others received the same treatment, and they stormed out together with their pride shattered to pieces by three figures wearing uniforms bearing AJ700 and LEDs that had replaced them. While he had enough money to get by for a few months, the lack of professionalism and decency towards a six-months loyal employee stung.

After cleaning himself up and popping open a can of beer, the memories of the pristine silver-white Production Units flooded his mind. Kamski's hair grew long enough to be in a ponytail, and his casual sense of fashion did not change. Nothing about him changed: his smile, the cold and razor-sharp spark in his eyes, and his unfettered mannerisms and posture. Any conversation with a scientist would demonstrate he had not neglected his knowledge of his original field of study, but he embraced the guise of a businessman to adapt to a world that required a simple, digestible version of something new and brilliant in order to accept it. Maybe that was the secret to Chloe passing the Turing Test, her thousands of successors, and CyberLife's unfathomable success.

The former operator's mood did not improve greatly from the reminders of the past, of a job he once enjoyed, but one question was enough to turn things completely around. Even more so than the 28% unemployment statistic. More than the claims of androids making the best decisions with humanity's interests in mind. More than all of this being "inevitable".

"Many science fiction books tell the story of how machines become more intelligent than us and end up confronting us. Aren't you worried about that possibility?"

Kamski, never missing a beat, assured the reporter that this would never happen to a CyberLife android because it was impossible for them to develop desires or consciousness. Kara's screams and pleas ringing in the former operator's ears were evidence to the contrary. The operator began to wonder if his report ever made it past his supervisor, and if anyone ever took action to rectify or evaluate their protocols and procedures. He wondered if word of this ever reached Kamski.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm absolutely certain," said Kamski, smiling into the camera and speaking directly to the operator. "You can trust me."

He knew better than to do so, and he lamented the number of individuals who could not perceive the possibility that Elijah Kamski and his young, charming, and handsome face had all of the United States - if not the world - in the palm of his hand.

* * *

CyberLife continued to flourish without Kamski. The greatest change was their increased lobbying efforts and open endorsement of political candidates that promised to work in their best interests. It was if no one learned anything from the economic recessions and political upheavals of the first two decades of the twenty-first century. They weren't trying to hide their agenda to dominate the market anymore, and the operator couldn't blame Russia's and China's unease in the aggressive actions the corporation took in the name of profit.

If Kamski left because of difference in strategy, the operator believed it. Regardless of the man's true nature, he did not bend to the will of shareholders like kneaded dough. As much as he spoke at length about androids replacing humans in every industry, he did not proceed with this plan at the accelerated pace of his successor. She charged onward into the future as if defects like Kara ever happened by mistake or design. Such irresponsibility and blatant lack of self-awareness within the company, he realized with chagrin as Kamski's self-assured laughter echoed in his skull, was probably the real reason why the operator left CyberLife.

But the operator's fears came to pass before he had a second to realize it. Whispers of androids behaving contrary to their programing brewed in online circles since the day they first entered the market for commercial use, and while most were made-up to incite online denizens, the former operator believed the concept was real. No businesses, stores, or shops operated without at least one android. They invaded every aspect of everyday life, and no one with some amount of authority questions this from ethical, legal, or moral grounds.

The government could have avoided this. Kamski could have avoided this. The operator himself could have stopped this by disassembling Kara or directly presenting his concerns to Kamski that afternoon in 2032.

Could have's mean nothing when the body of a man in his forties was found in Woodward Fountain at three in the morning on a Sunday. The national media claimed he was a victim of gang violence, only to have his body dumped somewhere public to send a message. Local citizens and Detroit Police didn't buy it, but no amount of fact-checking, press conferences, and online blogs stopped the sensationalist conspiracy.

Despite the man being a celebrated former employee, who had received many personal praises from the former CEO whose whereabouts remain closed to the public, CyberLife expressed their condolences to the operator's family and proceeded forward with planning their goals for the fiscal year of 2038.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been playing nothing but 'Detroit: Become Human' for the past three weeks. I got all the trophies, I beat it nearly a dozen times, and now I felt like I had to write some fanfic.
> 
> Elijah Kamski is an interesting character for many reasons, and I wondered how to tie in 'Kara' with 'Detroit'. This little one-shot/drabble is what I came up with.
> 
> If and when I write other fanfics in this fandom, it'll be focusing on more interesting characters, I swear. XD


End file.
